


Live Stream

by bewarethesmirk



Category: Revenge (TV)
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Obsession, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-02
Packaged: 2017-11-20 01:53:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/580002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bewarethesmirk/pseuds/bewarethesmirk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Victoria Grayson watches Emily in order to learn her secrets.  She keeps watching until, like all things, it blows up in her face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Live Stream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [artillie](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=artillie).



> Written for artillie for femslash12. I couldn't find a Dear Author letter from you, so I wrote the most compelling idea that came to mind. I really hope you like it! Thanks to b_hallward for betaing. Set in Season One - no major spoilers.

Victoria Grayson trusts no one.

Her world is crafted with safety nets, artillery, spies. She always keeps an ace up her sleeve. What her mind is not creative enough to concoct, she's rich enough to pay for it.

The day since Victoria met Emily Thorne, she put her considerable resources behind tracking her every move. Emily may present a good face of a refined upper class young woman. She certainly has Daniel wrapped around her little finger, but Victoria knows better. 

Fire crackles from the fireplace. Pale moonlight gleams against the windowpane. Victoria is in her private office, curled up in her favorite leather chair, her feet balanced on the ottoman, with her laptop balanced on her legs. She stares into the depths of the cognac, swirling it around her tumbler, watching the fire play off the amber gold.

On the screen are Daniel and Emily out at dinner – fast-forward – then sharing glasses of red wine at Emily's dining room table while Emily wears a pristine white dress and spills nary a drop of her wine – fast-forward – Daniel and Emily kissing underneath the sheets. 

Victoria sits up straighter, brings the tumbler to her mouth and sips. The alcohol burns her throat. She licks her lips.

There's no sound, but she can imagine.

Emily impressively flips Daniel over ( _and there's a clue right there_ , she thinks), and he laughs. She pulls her white dress over her head, slowly and teasingly. From the camera's angle, Victoria sees the expanse of Emily's pale back, her hair falling down to her shoulder blades, the small of her back. The sheets obstruct the rest of the view.

Morals are for the simple-minded. Victoria is the queen of the castle and she has everything; her world is painted with complexities and yet she knows well enough that this – watching her son and his _girlfriend_ in _flagrante delicto_ – crosses a line.

When Emily starts to move up and down, gyrating her hips, slow and teasing, the sheet slides down. There it is – Daniel's strong thighs, and Emily taking him inside – deep, deeper, her head thrown back so that the camera captures her face: open-mouthed, sweaty forehead, eyes closed.

_Pause_.

*

Victoria replaces Frank with even better security detail. He hooks up the security system and cameras so that she can get live feeds constantly. He asks no questions, and neither does Victoria.

*

It's a frigid January night. Victoria is in her chair with her customary tumbler, fire ablaze and laptop perched on her thighs. She browses through her live streams, and discovers a new one has been added: one showing Victoria right now in her office.

She wears her best poker face in case she's being watched.

For all of ten seconds she considers calling her security to ask what the hell is happening – what the fuck is going on. Then she tamps down the urge to find the wire, and decides not to look like one of those idiots in films once they realize they're on candid camera. 

Someone wanted Victoria to know that she's being watched, and all at once, the answer is obvious.

*

"Victoria," Emily greets her, with a smile so smooth Victoria vows to find a way to destroy it. "Please come in."

Victoria hates this house, abhors the memories. She sits on the edge of the sofa, and Emily stands in front of her, offering her a glass of wine. Every surface in Emily's house is spick-and-span and clean, no doubt hiding an array of secrets. 

"I know it's not your favorite, but I didn't have any cognac on hand," Emily says by way of apology and admission.

Victoria smiles like a shark. "I want to know how you did it."

"I don't reveal my sources, Victoria," Emily says, sips wine. She's still standing up in an attempt to threaten. But the real threat is elsewhere. Victoria does not look at Emily's wine-stained mouth.

"That was not what I asked." Victoria raises her chin.

"I found out what you were doing, and I did a little digging of my own," Emily says, approaching till she's looking right down at Victoria. "I want to know why you're having me followed."

"I don't trust you," Victoria says, keeping her voice crisp and clear as Emily's bare legs brushes against Victoria's. Victoria is wearing tights, too thick and hot.

"That doesn't stop you from watching me," Emily says with a coy smile. "I wonder what Conrad would think if he knew –" she touches the tip of her index finger to her mouth "—or Daniel."

"You will not tell either of them," Victoria warns, standing so they're toe-to-toe.

"I will if you agree to leave me alone."

"Why should I?" Victoria angles her face down. Her fingers are so tight around the stem of her Pinot glass, she's surprised it's not yet shattered. She breathes heavily.

"I'll expose you," Emily says, smiles and it's dangerous. Victoria gets confirmation that she's been right all along—this girl is not who she appears to be, myriad of secrets in those eyes, that smile. Softly, she says, "You've been watching me and your son night after night – getting off on it." 

Victoria flushes, recognizing she's been backed into a corner, goes all in. "So you've been watching _me_."

Emily takes a sip of wine. "I could have had someone watching for me. What matters is I know, and I won't be threatened just because you're a paranoid, old bitch."

It's the last straw. Before Victoria knows what's happening, she's thrown her glass to the floor, wine and glass wrecking the immaculate floor. Victoria grabs Emily by her dainty neck. "I will _ruin you_ ," Victoria seethes and claims Emily's mouth. 

Emily doesn't move a muscle, but she doesn't move away either as Victoria bites at her pink-red mouth, drawing blood. She pushes her tongue in, tasting wine and sweetness and digs her fingernails into Emily's delicate throat to get her to make noise, but it doesn't work.

Victoria steps back, lungs heaving, and Emily smiles like an Olympic champion that just won the gold.

"Thank you," she says, gestures to the corner bookcase. "I have video streams of my own, as you well know. And if you don't leave me alone, all of the Hampton elites will learn of your proclivities." She drinks a sip of wine, swirls it in the glass. "Your choice."

Victoria stares at her, long and hard, before nodding brusquely, knowing defeat. She's lost the battle, but not the war. She takes great pride in slamming Emily Thorne's door on the way out. But her mouth still tingles.


End file.
